Bright Lights and Soda Fountains
by Floopygirl
Summary: Susan can't find it in herself to believe any longer. Pre and post'The Last Battle'


Disclaimer: not mine

A/N: My thanks go to Jack for beta'ing for me. I always find Susan's role in _The Last Battle_ very frustrating, but this is one way I can see it all unfolding

* * *

She lies in bed with her eyes closed, miserably trying to work out whether it's the lurching of the ship or the ever-present smell of burning fuel that makes her feel so ill. Mother and Father are kind and check in on her, and ask the steward to fetch her hot broth, but they have friends on board and spend most of their time in the passenger lounges. She wishes she were well enough to sit there with them, talking and sipping cups of tea with lemon and sugar, instead of spending most of her days in their cabin; she's terribly lonely. 

It's impossible not to remember what it was like sailing in Narnia, where the air was fresh and smelt of salt and tar. The water of the sea was a beautiful turquoise, not sludgy grey, and there was music and joy.

She doesn't feel like a Queen any more.

--

The girls in America are beautiful. Their dresses are crisp and new, and they wear real nylon stockings - no gravy granules and penciled seams for them. She sees dainty hands resting on men's arms as they go to parties, and she feels a million miles away from home and every other place that she's known.

At first she feels shabby in her clothes and that makes her shy, but Mother soon buys her new clothes and it's easier to blend in. There's so much more choice in the shops, as if everything that's stylish in the world can be found in this one place.

The wife of one of Father's friends gives her a pink lipstick, and she smiles and says thank you. She's a little skeptical as she tries it on, but it's easy to see that it makes her lips look fuller and her skin seem more tanned. A few days later she persuades Mother to take her to a drug store and buys two more, lingering over all the different colours until Mother pulls her away.

Soon she's taken to parties and everyone's as welcoming here as the people of Narnia ever were. She holds her head up high and remembers that deep down she is royalty, and soon her shyness is just a memory. People ask her about England and how things are now that the war is over, but she doesn't want to think about the grayness and the rationing and the rebuilding. Besides, people like the way she speaks so much that they're happy to let her change the subject.

America is colour and life and gaiety, and more real than England ever was. When it's time to go home, she doesn't want to leave.

--

It's all different when she gets back. She wants to talk about her adventures and see her family wear their new clothes, but Edmund complains that the collars of his new shirts are too tight and Lucy isn't interested in pretty dresses that bring out the blue in her eyes. They've been back, back to Narnia, and for a while everything else fades away.

They tell her and Peter about it, interrupting each other, darting back mid-story to recap pieces they've missed and then starting from the beginning once they're done. Peter listens and asks questions, so many questions, but Susan can't bring herself to do the same.

She can't ever go back. Aslan told her that himself, and she's not going to spend her whole life dreaming and longing for something she can't have. What she has now is enough.

Susan is strong, and she's going to move forward, whether her family want her to or not.

--

They argue with her, all of them. Edmund is sharper than he has been for a long time and his words cut into her despite herself; Lucy is heartbroken and cries for hours, asking her how she can pretend it didn't all exist, and _Aslan_, how could she deny Aslan? Susan closes her eyes and tries not to remember the golden fur that was so soft under her fingers and cheeks, the warmth of his breath on her face.

When Peter speaks to her she hears echoes of the High King in his voice, she flushes with temper. He's her older brother, _just_ her older brother, and the only people she has to obey are Mother and Father.

Eventually his reasoned arguments turn to ice-cold disappointment and then it's her turn to cry, but in secret where no one can see her. She loves her brother but he can't understand, they're never going back and it's all changed now. There's another world out there, and they don't need to step through a wardrobe to find it.

--

When Professor Digory invites her to stay at his house in the country for a few days with her brothers and sisters, she accepts another invitation that she would have otherwise turned down. Lucy stares for a while in passionate disbelief, then hardly looks at her until she leaves. Susan can hardly believe how childish Lucy is being, clinging to old grudges and childhood dreams.

She says as much to Peter when he telephones to tell her that something's wrong, they saw a ghost from Narnia and Eustace and Jill need to go back. It's ridiculous, really - even when they were younger, they'd never played ghosts before. Silly, silly games, and Peter at least should have known better.

--

She's horrified when hears about the train crash on the radio. So many people dead. Her hands shake as she checks her train timetable, and then her whole world ends.

--

Friends of her family come and take her home with them. They tell her that she can stay with them as long as she likes, poor thing, what a tragedy, and she mustn't worry at all. She nods and says things like "Yes," and "Thank you," and then runs up to the room they've prepared for her. She cries and cries, letting her pillow soak up her tears, and doesn't leave the house unless she's forced to.

Slowly, slowly it all becomes clear, though she almost doesn't want it to. She doesn't want to blame anyone, but if they hadn't insisted on playing make-believe then Lucy, Eustace and Jill wouldn't have been on that train. Peter and Edmund wouldn't have been waiting on the train platform.

All such a waste, such a stupid waste, and for what? Something that was never real.

Her hair is tangled from neglect and it takes her almost an hour to brush it smooth. She puts on lipstick to give her face some much-needed colour, and the red is vivid against her pale skin.


End file.
